Battle Lines
by ilovetvalot
Summary: She loathed him - a little more every day. She truly did. JJ/Rossi - may be first story in an arc if there is a favorable response.


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**Battle Lines**

He was the devil in human form…and nothing anyone could say was going to convince her otherwise.

Oh, he was deceptive, she would give him that. A walking, talking demon on two legs dressed up in a charmingly arrogant Italian package. But, she could see past the window dressing to the inner hell beast hiding within.

Even if everybody else thought she was crazy.

There were those that called him direct and blunt. She simply called it rude and unmannered. She huffed those thoughts to herself as she shot the dark headed hedonist a glare from over the top of her book held clutched tightly in her clawed hands. She didn't know why she was so angry. It wasn't as if Hotch hadn't warned her about Rossi's sometimes questionable methods.

But, damn it, his 'I am an island' crap was getting old. Had the man never even heard the word team before?

Sure, initially, she'd had the same star struck teen spotting her favorite idol reaction that the rest of her colleagues, save Hotch, had displayed. She was an adult and could admit such immature behavior. But, five minutes of her undivided attention had changed that impression forever.

The man had actually had the audacity to laugh in her face when she'd chastened him… for the third time, by the way… regarding his speaking to the press. Granted, she wasn't a profiler, and she never professed to have their keen intuitive skills. BUT, and this was a huge but, she did know the media. Intimately.

And as far as the press went, the only thing David Rossi was good for was the thirty second sound bite.

She also was aware that every time David Rossi's face appeared before the cameras, the focus of whatever deadly case they happened to be working on was lost. All those starry eyed reporters saw was a best-selling crime novelist favoring the Bureau with a side job. Their ratings would rocket with the great David Rossi on their screens, and everyone knew it.

And she HATED it. It was a repulsive and disgusting display of the sad state of affairs in America when that playboy's face could diminish a case in the public eye.

She didn't doubt his skill. Tales of his professional exploits had circulated the Bureau long before his well publicized return. Hell, even she had been stricken by his knowledge on the criminal mind and his unwavering charisma ten years ago at a reading on her college campus. But none of that changed the fact that in the here and now, David Rossi was a thorn in her ass.

And he was ambling her way.

She refused to give him the courtesy of glancing up from her novel as he paused beside her seat. Let him stand there and take root, she mentally cheered herself, keeping her eyes firmly affixed to the page as she heard him clear his throat above the roar of the plane's engine.

"Care to explain what your problem with me is, Agent Jareau?" his gravelly voice asked with thinly veiled derision and censure.

Finally deigning to turn her head, her facial expressions schooled into mild aloofness, she cocked one eyebrow heavenward as she raked him with disdainful eyes. "My problem?" she echoed with a mocking smile.

"Your problem," he confirmed condescendingly, nodding as he propped one hip against the seat directly across from her and stared her down with those obsidian eyes of his.

He was trying to intimidate her, she realized belatedly. His body language and tone confirmed every suspicion she had. Not today of all days, Agent Holier than Thou, she thought stubbornly. "Honestly?" she asked, propping her chin on her hand as she met his gaze directly.

"Of course," he said, inclining his head in invitation for her to continue.

Pasting a serene smile on her lips, she returned his nod. "Fine, my problem with you is that I find you to be an oversexed, overblown pain in my ass," she informed him politely, her words void of emotion. "One that never quite learned how to play well with others. And while that method might have worked for you on your last ride on the merry-go-round, I think you'll find that very few of us have tolerance for it here. On this team."

"Is that so?" David Rossi asked, quirking his lips in a cocky smile.

Keeping her cool mask firmly in place, JJ could barely resist the urge not to stomp her foot in anger. Damn him. He was taunting her. And if that wasn't infuriating enough, he was doing it successfully. "Very much so, Agent Rossi," she said, keeping her voice low and carefully modulated, her eyes glued to his. Damn it, she would NOT blink first. Maybe that simple twist of his lips had melted women before her, but he'd met his match this time.

"I always enjoy people that tell me the truth rather than what they think I want to hear," he commented blandly, though his eyes sparkled with barely contained mirth.

"Then you ought to be thrilled by me," JJ retorted pertly, settling back in her seat, her shoulders squared as she eyed him warily. Had he just paid her a well concealed compliment? And if he did, then she was certain that an ulterior motive was hovering somewhere underneath those eve so polite words.

"Oh, I am, Agent Jareau," he said solemnly though his lips twitched. "And I think such courageous honesty should always be returned in full, don't you?" he asked conversationally, one hand slipping into the pocket of his well-fitting jeans.

"Always," JJ said tersely, tilting her chin defiantly, daring him to continue.

Narrowing his eyes on her upturned face, Dave dropped his voice as he leaned toward her to whisper against her ear, "I think you're a ball-busting spitfire with serious control issues. But the good news is, it'll never be boring with us around."

And the son of a bitch actually winked at her when he drew back before he continued sauntering up the aisle toward the galley, humming happily as he went. Turning her eyes back to the book in her lap, JJ trained her eyes on the page.

David Rossi might have successfully navigated that battle, she thought grimly, but the war was far from over.

Damn the torpedoes..it was full speed ahead.

_**finis**_


End file.
